


The Girl Who Cried Wolf

by chele681



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Femslash, Wolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-14
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 16:06:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chele681/pseuds/chele681
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angela Weber was forever changed when she chanced upon a wolf during a walk in the woods. Years later, when Angela returns to Forks to find the elusive creature, Leah Clearwater's world is changed as well. Femslash. Canon-ish. Novella.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookjunkie1975](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookjunkie1975/gifts).



"...we drove up north, almost to the hot springs - there's a good spot just about a mile up the trail. But when we were halfway there...we saw something." ~ Angela, New Moon pg 155

 

I will never forget that foggy morning along the Ruby Beach trail or how the sight of that magnificent animal set my heart pounding in my chest. From the beginning, I’d been hesitant to share what had happened. The critical response I received from Lauren, and the dismissal by the rest of my friends the next day at school ensured that what I had seen would remain my secret. I let them think they convinced me I had seen a bear, but something in Bella’s eyes when she confirmed the animal attacks her father had been looking into told me she believed I’d seen something else. It was obvious she had secrets of her own.

What I saw my senior year of high school changed everything for me. I sought it out like a drug. Despite my previously sedentary nature, and all of the warnings to do otherwise, I’d wandered in the woods, hoping to find it again. Every major life choice that followed was colored by my secret desire to get back to that moment, that feeling. Ben quickly tired of my camping fixation, though he’d come along more often than not in the beginning. I’m sure we’d have drifted apart anyway, for reasons that became obvious to me later; my lack of focus on anything other than my time in the forest certainly hastened that relationship’s demise.

I’d gone away to Oregon State University after high school, seduced by their participation in the Leopold Project, a study of the re-introduction of predatory species into the wild. There, I’d spent every spare weekend and break during the first years of my undergrad education volunteering on tracking missions into the backcountry of Oregon looking for the wolves that ranged through the area. Each time we would encounter a new pack my pulse would race in anticipation, hoping for that same feeling. Though they possessed a graceful beauty that left me in awe, I never felt the spark again. I wanted it so desperately.

Our group’s guide into the backcountry, Peo, was a member of the Umatilla tribe, which had resided on the land of Northern Oregon since before the wolves had been hunted to near extinction. Our group found his stories fascinating, and I found that his presence on the trips made them an even more amazing experience for me.

As an English major, I didn’t always blend with the scientific crowd on the expeditions, but my enthusiasm for the subject and talent with a camera made me worth bringing along. The first time we’d encountered a pack I’d stood awestruck. I was so captivated that I was unable to lift the camera to capture the images my naked eye refused to part with. 

Peo’s voice broke me from my reverie. “You are lalawísh átawit,” he said, looking smug, but refused to tell me what it meant when I asked. He’d taken to calling me Lala for the rest of the trip, and every day since. Our campmates assumed he’d derived the nickname from Angela. It amused me that they would think that a man so gifted with language would use an alliterative nonsense word in reference to a young female colleague, but they never really saw him clearly. 

Later that week in the library I was able to find the meaning of his words, and it left me stunned. I’d gotten used to living up to the expectations of what other people saw when they looked at me, the preacher’s daughter, tall girl, the nerd. I’d hidden behind these things, played the roles which allowed me the freedom of my own pursuits when no one looked any deeper. 

The translation of Peo’s words left me feeling as if I’d been stripped bare, and truly been seen. It was a comfort unlike anything I’d known.  
He was calling me ’lover of wolves’.

Peo and I bonded over our mutual adoration of words and nature, and he honored me by teaching me as much Sahaptin, his first language, that I could grasp. He was roughly my father’s age, and his presence in my life felt like family. When he told me of the Indigenous Language Project during my junior year, I jumped on the chance to focus my major while being able to contribute to something that had become so important to me. Ethnologists were trying to record the languages and culture of the native tribes while there were still those alive to share the stories and speak the words. Funding was scarce, but my friendship with Peo had sparked a passion for preserving his people’s way of life. Grant writing required a firm grasp of English and a stubborn constitution. I had both. The research was fascinating, if a bit exhaustive, and we had great success.

When the opportunity to work with the Quileute nation came up, it felt like my roots and my destiny had converged, and I applied for it without hesitation. Thankfully, assignments in the rainy Olympic Peninsula were not in high demand, and I was chosen to assist the tribal elders in the cataloging of the history and recording of the language of the tribe as well as developing textbooks, dictionaries and an online translator. 

Despite my excitement to head back to Northwest Washington, it was difficult to say goodbye to Peo and the life I had built in Oregon. The night before I left, I went to have dinner with his family. I promised him and his wife that I would keep in touch, and we discussed the work that I would be doing, which made him beam with pride.

“Thank you for setting me on the path,” I said, feeling I should acknowledge the impact he’d had in my decision to pursue this.  
He was somber when he replied, “I could no more set you on your path than I could tell the moon to rise, I’m just pleased to have walked it with you for a while.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“You won’t have time. You’ll be too busy saving the future and protecting the past.” Peo dismissed my serious tone, like a man who was all too practiced at goodbyes. I, however, wasn’t, and a bit of melancholy encroached on the comfort I’d always felt in his home, in his presence. I was going to miss this. 

Peo broke the silence before it became uncomfortable by inquiring about my new assignment. “Which nation is fortunate enough to be getting you as the savior of their language?”

“I’ll be working with the Quileutes.”

“You’re going home to the wolves?” A crinkle in the corner of his eye gave away his curiosity before he spoke.

“Wh- ,” I stuttered, processing what he’d said, and trying to form a response. Logically wolves no longer inhabited the region where I was going, and I’d never shared my secret encounter with anyone, not even my good friend.

“The wolves were trapped to extinction on the Olympic Peninsula decades ago Peo. You of all people know that.” I bluffed. 

“Maybe so, lalawísh átawit, but wolves are beginning to thrive again. I think you might be surprised by what you find,” he said. His words felt like a blessing, and bolstered my hopes that I’d made the right decision. That lightness stayed with me through the following days as I prepared for the long drive back to Forks.  
There were plenty of reasons for coming home; my family was still here, my career could flourish, but deep down, there was only one true motivation for going back. I wanted to recapture that feeling of mystery and amazement that I’d had that day when I crossed paths with that mythical animal. 

_It_ was here. 

I came home to find the giant wolf in Clallam County.


	2. Chapter 2

I arrived in Forks on a Sunday afternoon. My dad was still at church, and Mom was putting together a meal for the parish members that had been invited over to share Sunday dinner. This was a regular occurrence while I was growing up and it shouldn’t have ruffled me, but I was out of practice with socializing as the pastor's daughter. I began feeling claustrophobic rather quickly. When Mom said she was out of a few things and needed to run to the store, I quickly volunteered to make the trip. 

On my way out of the market, I scoured the bulletin board on the long shot that there would be a roommate wanted sign. I knew my parents were glad to have me home, but I was anxious to be on my own. I was fond of my independence and was already missing the quiet solitude of my old apartment. Not to mention, if I ever wanted to get laid again, it wouldn’t happen while living at my parents’ house.   
However, the board only had an ad for free fire wood and a lost dog. No luck. Not a surprise in a town this small. I took the index card I’d prepared and stole a pushpin from the board to put mine up. 

Room needed, female roommate preferred. No weirdos.

At the last minute I decided not to be picky and crossed out the no weirdos requirement. I’d take a little weird if it meant not displacing one of my brothers from their room or sleeping on the couch indefinitely.

I turned toward the door to head for my car when I saw her. She was standing stock still, but I could see her hand trembling. It was raised like she was reaching for something, but there was nothing in front of her except me. Her eyes were locked on mine; an expression of anger, confusion, and something I didn’t have words for on her beautiful face. I was overcome by a sense of awe, the likes of which I’d only ever known once before. It was the same feeling that had once launched an obsession. 

_It was misty that spring morning, and there was a chill in the air. I was alone. I’d turned back a short time into our hike to grab a sweater from the car. I walked quickly to catch up with the group, and to Ben, who I knew was waiting ahead on the trail. I was lost in the rhythm of my boots against the ground. They sounded like thunder in the otherwise silent forest as my body cut through the damp air. I began to feel uncomfortable, the minimum visibility making me claustrophobic, the quiet seeming almost unnaturally so. I picked up my pace, trying to push through my nerves and the irrational feeling that I was being watched from somewhere in the grey fog._

_I heard the muffled snap of a twig from the trees to my left followed by a bird call that sounded remarkably like a woman’s laugh from the same direction. I froze before turning toward the source of the sound, my eyes seeking out its source without success. I strained my ears, but the noise did not repeat.  
My back began to warm, as if the sun had broken through the clouds sending a deep heat I felt in my bones. I calmed considerably with the sensation, instinctively relaxing a bit. I blew out the breath which had caught in my lungs and tried to calm down. _

_When I turned back to head up the trail, I found the source of warmth in the form of a tremendous animal only a couple of feet away blocking my path. I’d never seen a wolf in the wild, but I knew they weren’t supposed to be this big. I’d seen Draft horses smaller than this. I had to crane my neck to see its head from where I stood and was surprised that it didn’t seem to notice me there. Instead it was focused on the area to my left, where I’d heard the rustling and trills. The wolf’s posture was rigid, the animal’s thick, shiny, black fur stood on end. A vicious snarl revealed sharp teeth, and it occurred to me that I should be more frightened than I was.  
Instead I was simply awed. It did not escape me that I was witnessing something extraordinary. The wolf started to move, a slow stalking pace off into the trees. It cast a glance over in my direction, and the soulful look in its eyes took my breath away. I felt protected, important, exhilarated. _

_Like a flash of lightning, it disappeared into the trees. The thrall broken, I turned and I ran up the trail as fast as I could._

_I couldn’t outrun what I’d seen, what I’d felt. It was a moment that had changed me. I’d never been the same._

A glance shouldn’t have such significance, but standing in front of this beautiful woman, I felt completely bare; like there was something happening that was bigger than I was. She was clearly too beautiful to be real. Artemis fallen to earth. Her body was powerfully feminine, the perfect balance of muscle and soft curves on her tall frame. Her tremors had shaken loose a lock of short, black hair from behind her ear and it fell across the edge of her eye. She looked dangerous, but I was eager with anticipation. Despite her silence and rigid posture, I felt drawn to her. I wanted to know her well enough to ask what she saw when she looked at me. The pull toward this stranger was unreal.

I tried to muster a friendly smile despite how nervous I felt under her gaze. Approaching girls was always awkward anyway. Barring meeting at a gay pride parade, it was hard to tell whether they would be receptive to a relationship of a more intimate nature. It seemed like by the time I realized I was falling for a girl, she’d tell me about the guy she was crushing on. Not wanting to face the disappointment of making an emotional connection when the physical wasn’t an option, I had spent the past couple years having more casual hookups, and hadn't felt a real intensity with anyone. 

This, however, was intense. 

I wanted to know this girl. Somehow just looking at her I knew I would accept whatever she offered, just to keep feeling the way I did when she looked at me. I took a deep breath and said the only word my stunned mind could summon.

“Hi.”

She didn’t respond, but at least the shaking stopped. She blinked twice and blew out a long, slow breath through her rose petal lips, turned, and ran out the door.

I felt like the chance of a lifetime had just slipped through my fingers, and though I tried to brush it off, that quiet ache stayed with me for days.


	3. Chapter 3

_Leah_

Imprinting could not be more fucked.

I ran as fast as I could without attracting attention as I moved through the parking lot. The ache I felt in my chest grew stronger with every step I took away from her. I was grateful that the woods still encroached on every building in town as I disappeared into the shadows of the tree line.

I’d almost phased right there, in the entryway of the grocery store. I was just running in to pick up dessert to take to Mom and Charlie’s; the same shit I’d done every Sunday for the last two years. I’d felt it, the pull, before I even got out of the car. I shrugged it off, caught in the urgency of being late again. 

The last few months, I hadn’t taken on the wolf form very often, and my control was slipping. I took my share of patrols, but they were almost never needed. Jake and Seth were spending all their time with the Cullens, while I returned to my studies and slowly re-built the life that had been destroyed when all of the mythical shit hit the fan. 

Soon, the Cullens, and most of our pack, would be moving on from Forks. Jake had agreed to release me from my obligations before they left. Some modicum of normalcy and success had finally begun to settle over my life. Therefore, it only made sense that it would all be ripped out from under me. Just when I thought I had a chance at escaping, my entire world focused down to a pair of mocha eyes behind horn-rimmed glasses.

When I’d walked through the whooshing automatic doors I may as well have run into a brick wall. My breath caught in my throat and I could feel myself start to shake; every nerve in my body was humming, every hyperactive sense seeking something, aching for completion and fulfillment, guiding my steps.

I knew what was coming before she even turned around, but when she did, everything stopped. It was like one of those retouched photos where everything else is faded except for the color in her eyes and the blush on her cheeks. The entire world was black and white and she was a burst of spring wildflowers. I reached to touch her without even thinking, like I was drowning in the sight and smell of her. I shook from the strain of not touching her. I needed something from her or I was going to explode into a silken grey coat of furry failed control.

She said something, I have no idea what, and the ringing in my ears stopped. The tone of her voice washed over me bringing with it a wave of calm. I felt lucid, centered, and capable for the first time in years. So of course I responded to my first impulse.

**Run**

I phased as soon as I was out of sight. It was worth losing a change of clothes to get into a form where I could burn off the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Instead of the relief I sought, I quickly found that with every step the tightness in my chest constricted. I pushed myself harder, punishing my body to keep the urge to turn around at bay. 

My strength ebbed after several miles. Finally, I allowed myself to sink on my haunches to the leaf-litter on the forest floor, my breath panting, and my body exhausted. As the burn in my lungs began to ease, the panic started to creep in around the edge of my mind. I rested my muzzle against the forest floor, inhaling the scent of damp earth and whishing it could calm the storm inside my head. The need to return to her was suffocating. 

I heard the crunch of leaves at the same time I smelled him. Soon I could feel the ground vibrate with a heavy-stepped approach. 

_“So, you’ve imprinted.”_ Jake’s unspoken words were stated too matter-of-factly for my taste. He made it sound simple. This wasn’t simple. This was extraordinarily fucking complicated. 

_“How did you know?”_

_“I’d know that ache anywhere. Who is it?”_

The image of the girl flashed though my mind; long silky, black hair pulled into these two adorable pigtails, and those old fashioned purple poodle hairclips. The oversize mauve, wool coat that looked like it was out of the 50s. All of it seemed to fit so perfectly with her cat's eye glasses, and yet none of it measured up the two dark pools of her eyes. A person could swim in those eyes. Hell, it felt like I’d been drowning in them.  
If he was surprised by her gender, Jake didn’t show it. “She’s lovely.”

_“She’s....everything. Already. I don’t even know her name.”_

_“Are you okay?”_ he asked, his mental tone one of concern. 

_“I’m pissed. I should have a say in this.”_ The words in my head were decidedly acidic, but my emotions were all over the map. Having conjured her face in my mind, I couldn’t shake the image or the warm calm I felt just by thinking of her. It seemed to be fighting to extinguish the anger I felt at being committed to a stranger. To say I was confused was an understatement. 

_“Yeah, well....It could be worse.”_

Jacob’s thought brought to mind his situation and I was immediately chagrined at my tantrum. He hadn’t even had an erection since Renesmee was born, which was reassuring to everyone involved, including Jacob, but was still pretty shitty for him. I could tell from his thoughts that he didn’t mind, and was perfectly satisfied acting as house pet to the Cullens and best friend to the kid until she needed something more from him. But at twenty-one, he should at least be entitled to want more than that.

_“I know things aren’t easy for you. I’m sorry.”_

_“I’m not,”_ he said, heavy with patience. _“Just pointing out that there are circumstances which you might find less appealing than the one you find yourself in.”_

_“You’re spending too much time with Edward. You’re starting to sound like him.”_

I looked at Jake, and even in this form I could see the weight of experience had aged him, but never really changed him. It was moments like these that I knew I had made the right decision when I’d followed him the night the packs had split. My thoughts were safe with Jake, and I was thrilled that I didn’t have to share this... share her, with Sam. 

I waited for the mental recoil which usually accompanied thinking about Sam, the bitterness which still threatened to choke me. This time, however, it just wasn’t there. I reached out, looking for it, prodding gingerly into my mind like a tongue against a sore tooth. Waiting for that moment when the hurt and anger would bubble to the surface. 

Jake braced himself, familiar with the old wound and the agony which I unintentionally shared with our pack every time I thought of Sam. It took effort to bring him to the front of my mind. It still hurt, but there was no agony. The traces of anger felt deflated, lackluster; just an empty space where that fierce bitterness had been. Testing myself, like a true masochist, I thought of his face when he’d told me that Emily was pregnant- a moment which had resulted in a substantial investment in Jim Beam, and two days I don’t remember well. 

_“Nothing?”_ Jake’s thoughts were tentative, but tinged with relief that I echoed. 

I felt lighter, unburdened. I mentally pulled up a dozen memories of the most dramatic moments from the dark time after Sam had left me, what had been my personal hell, to find that each was devoid of the intensity I’d gotten used to. The emotions were there, but I was detached, a third party to the experience.

_“I think I love her already,”_ Jake thought, his relief showing clearly on his face. 

Her. 

Just a glance from this girl had brought me healing that time and distance had not. I was overwhelmed by the intensity of the imprint. The tightness in my chest from having walked away from her began to feel like a crushing weight. Despite the strain there was a tinge of hope and lightness just thinking of her. 

Then the panic set in, and my mind swam with questions. _“ What if she leaves? Does she even live here? I’ve never seen her before. Maybe she’s just passing through.”_

Jake’s reply held humor and reason, _“Or maybe she works at the grocery store. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Go. Find out. Find her.”_

It was a gentle command, but a command nonetheless. I felt myself turn to go without consideration, but froze when another question plagued me. 

_“What is she going to want from me?”_ I asked Jake, _” Will I automatically want it too?”_

_“You’ll want to give her what she needs,”_ he said, looking at me seriously. _“Whatever that is.”_

My mind progressed in its panicked line of logic, thinking of Paul and Rachel, Jared and Kim. Mature imprints were always mated. I’d only ever been with Sam. I’d never been attracted to a girl.

Jake had the sense to allow me the illusion of privacy by not answering... or maybe he didn’t have any answers for me either. 

The instinctual desire to be close to her built as my thoughts lingered. Combined with Jake’s insistence that I go to her, I was overtaken by an overwhelming need to move. I wanted a moment to breathe, to think, and hoped that a slower form could buy me a moment. I phased, any sense of modesty around Jake having long ago dissolved. I brought my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, holding myself together. A moment later I felt him sit next to me, the shoulder of a man nudging mine, letting me know he was there when I was ready to talk. 

“So I don’t have a choice?” I whispered.

“I’m not intimately familiar, but I’ve never known of anyone who fell for a person of the same sex who felt they were given a choice in the matter,” Jacob replied.

“I don’t even know her.” What if she doesn’t want me?

It was a thought I was grateful he couldn’t hear. 

He eyed me with the intense patience of an alpha, and said, “You can fix that, you know. Your best option is to be what she needs. That’s the only part you don’t have a choice in. Everything else will work itself out in time. She was meant for you.” 

Hours later, I sat in my house and stared at the curl of her writing on the note card I’d taken from the bulletin board. I brought it to my nose to inhale her soft subtle scent left on the paper, and relaxed for a moment. 

Jacob’s words swirled in my head as I held the phone and started to dial. 

I would be what she needed, and right now, she needed somewhere to live. 

I could be a home for her.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is for BookJunkie, who bought me in a FGB auction, and waited like, two years for her story. She is wonderful, a true supporter of writing, and a gift to fandom.
> 
> Forever love to EinfachMich and MJinAspen for handholding and characterization reality checks. Errors are mine.


End file.
